You don't have to work for Google, or any of the other firms

Hear the voice of Carl Honore, prophet of the slow movement, who declares: “You don’t have to work for Google, or any of the other firms encouraging staff to pursue personal projects on company time, to use slowness to unlock your creativity. Anyone can do it. Start by clearing space in your schedule for rest, daydreaming and serendipity. Take breaks away from your desk, especially when you get stuck on a problem.” Do not mistake these words as light counsel. They are a call to awaken from the fever of speed, from the worship of constant motion, and to rediscover the forgotten rhythm of the soul. For it is not in haste, but in slowness, that the seeds of creation germinate.

The origin of this teaching lies in our age, an age enslaved by velocity. We run from dawn to dusk, our calendars bursting, our eyes fixed upon glowing screens, our minds whipped like oxen beneath the yoke of productivity. Yet man was not fashioned to be a machine. In ancient days, the wise already knew this truth. The shepherd resting under the olive tree, the philosopher walking the shaded paths of the Academy, the poet lying upon the grass—these were not idlers, but seekers who understood that inspiration flows in silence and stillness. Honore calls us back to this wisdom, bidding us reclaim time as our own, to allow rest, daydreaming, and serendipity to breathe life into our weary minds.

Consider the story of Archimedes, who discovered his great principle not while scribbling feverishly in the marketplace, but while reclining in his bath. The waters rose around him, and in that unhurried moment of observation, the insight came: “Eureka!” Had he been chained to his desk, had he been consumed by ceaseless toil, the revelation might never have been born. Thus it is shown: when the mind is allowed to wander, when the body is freed from strain, creativity descends like a gift from the heavens.

Even in modern times, the same truth appears. The great company Google, though vast and driven by innovation, became famous for granting its workers time to pursue their own projects—a recognition that breaks and wandering minds produce breakthroughs. From this freedom came ideas that reshaped the world, from Gmail to Google Maps. Yet Honore reminds us that this privilege is not reserved for the few in shining offices. It is for anyone who dares to slow down. Creativity is not chained to corporations—it dwells in the quiet spaces each of us can create.

Mark this well: to grind endlessly at a problem is often to dull the blade of the mind. Like a sword worn blunt by overuse, the spirit falters when denied rest. But when you step away—when you walk beneath the sky, breathe the air, listen to the song of birds—your thoughts sharpen anew. What seemed impossible in strain becomes simple in calm. The lesson is as old as the Sabbath, the day of rest decreed so that both man and beast might be restored. To rest is not weakness; it is wisdom.

What, then, shall you do? Begin by guarding your time as a sacred temple. Carve out moments free of noise and urgency. Let your mind wander in daydreams; let your heart open to the unexpected gift of serendipity. When work entangles you, step away—walk, stretch, breathe, laugh. Do not despise these pauses, for they are not escapes from labor, but the secret workshops of creativity. In them, the unseen hand of inspiration weaves solutions and visions greater than effort alone could summon.

Therefore, O listener, live not as a slave to speed. Dare to move with dignity, with intention, with slowness. For in slowness lies depth, in slowness lies clarity, in slowness lies the wellspring of creation. Let the world rush madly if it must—you will walk in the ancient rhythm, and in walking thus, you will find treasures that the hurried will never see. This is the teaching of Honore, and it is a gift for all generations: slow down, and in slowing, awaken.